Claiming the Single Mom's Heart (9 page)

Think again, cuz.
Grady resolutely pushed himself out of the recliner and pointed a warning finger at his cousin. “No.”

“Why not? You don't think your lady friend can beat you, do you?”

“Sunshine is not my ‘lady friend.' And I'm not much concerned about whether or not she could beat me because I'm not running for an elected office.” His eyes narrowed. “Why don't
you
do it if you're worried about Hunters losing?”

“Because you have to be a resident for at least one year prior to the election. I moved back here last December and I have no idea how much longer I'll hold this interim pastor position. Besides, I have my hands full at Christ's Church.”

“And my hands aren't full, too? I can't take on a four-year commitment.” Grady spread his arms wide. “What do you think I've been doing around the Hideaway since I was a teenager anyway?”

“You mean besides sneaking off for a kissing fest with some cute little gal?” Garrett teased, an attempt to ease a heated moment.

Grady couldn't help but laugh. His cousin hadn't exactly been a choir boy in his younger days, either. “You should talk, preacher.”

Garrett suppressed a smile. “Honestly, Grady, if you'd be willing to give this serious thought, I think it would ease my folks' minds. Uncle Doug's, too. Probably the whole family's.”

“I'm not running for office.” And he wasn't praying about it, either, so Garrett better not ask him to.

With a sound of frustration, Garrett stood at the same moment the phone rang. “Better get that. Your lady friend's checking in.”

“I told you—”

“I know. She's not your lady friend.” Garrett headed to the front door, then paused to look back. “But you'll be careful, won't you? I don't want to be the last bachelor left standing in the Hunter clan.”

Chapter Nine

“T
his is looking good, Grady.”

Sunshine motioned to the laptop screen as she pushed her chair back from Grady's dining table. This was their fourth work session over the past two weeks, and progress had been steady.

“You think we're getting there?”

“Definitely.”

After what had felt like a too-close encounter right before Garrett had shown up at the conclusion of their first meeting, she'd been hesitant to meet with Grady again. But she hadn't felt ill at ease during the follow-up sessions at all. Not to say that Grady wasn't Grady. He'd probably flirted in the hospital nursery on the very day of his arrival into the world. He couldn't help himself now any more than he could back then. Which actually made for a fun and nonthreatening time together.

Tonight, though, while not awkward in that respect, Grady seemed preoccupied.

As had become their custom when they'd wrapped things up for the night, he rose to pour himself a mug of coffee and her a cup of tea, then led the way to the living room. She followed, pulling a crocheted afghan across her lap as she made herself comfortable on the sofa. He settled into the recliner and she clasped her hands around the warm teacup.

She'd come to look forward to this time to talk about various topics, to get to know each other better. Grady was an intriguing man despite being a Hunter.

“I could put a fire in the fireplace if you're chilly.” He started to rise, but she shook her head.

“No, I'm fine. But thanks. The afghan's all I need.”

“You're sure?”

“Positive.”

He eased back down and took a sip of coffee. “I'm pleased with the way the proposal is coming together. Thanks to you. What do you think? Can we finalize it at our next meeting?”

Only one more? An unexpected wave of disappointment washed through her. “I think so. I'll polish up the slide presentation I've been working on and we can put the final touches on it.”

“If my family doesn't go for this after all the work we've put into it, I should probably saddle up and ride off into the sunset.”

She leaned forward. “They'll go for it, Grady.”

“I hope so.”

“This means a lot to you, doesn't it?”

He set his mug on the end table next to him. “It's something I've wanted to pursue ever since I got into photography as a teenager. A dream that never died.”

She couldn't help but smile as he glanced away, almost as if he'd revealed too much of himself in that simple statement.

“I can't see why they would turn this down now.” She took another sip of the fragrant tea. “There's minimal financial investment. Negligible advertising expense, too, because it will be incorporated into the Hideaway's other promotional efforts—brochures and the website. It's mostly juggling around cabin availability and hunting seasons. I think your documentation proves it will be profitable.”

He gave her a regretful smile. “With my family, I learned long ago not to get too excited about something until it's a done deal.”

“Getting excited is half the fun. But if for some totally irrational reason they reject your proposal, that doesn't have to be the end of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hunter's Hideaway isn't the only game in town. Or at least not the only game in Arizona mountain country. Or anywhere for that matter. There are plenty of other outdoor-related businesses that might welcome a potential moneymaker like this, one that has a business plan mapped out and ready to go.”

He looked at her as if she'd lost her mind.

“Your family doesn't hold the key to your dream, Grady. God does. And if He leads you elsewhere...”

His brows lowered. “I can't imagine taking this elsewhere.”

“I'm not saying you should. I'm pointing out that you have options. Don't close doors. That's God's job.”

He rose from the recliner, then moved to place a hand on the polished oak mantel of the stone fireplace, where he stared into the cold grate, deep in thought. Under the surface all evening, he'd been restless. Agitated. It wasn't her imagination.

“There's something bothering you, isn't there?” she said softly. “Something that doesn't have anything to do with your business proposal.”

His head jerked up in surprise, and then he nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Yeah. Something that makes this proposal seem inconsequential.”

“I'm a good listener.”

“I know. And it's something you'll find out tomorrow anyway. I just didn't know how to tell you.” He fisted the hand he'd placed on the fireplace mantel. “It's not easy for me to talk about.”

Curious—and somewhat alarmed—she set her cup aside, then pulled the afghan more closely around herself to wait. To give him time to work through whatever was troubling him.

The antique clock on the mantel ticked loudly, measuring the seconds. Overhead a wind-loosened pinecone hit the rooftop. The refrigerator's steady hum silenced.

Then with a heavy sigh, Grady looked to her again, his eyes bleak. “My mother has breast cancer.”

With a gasp, she momentarily pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Grady. I'm sorry.”

With a guilty sense of self-incrimination, she chastised herself for the appalling first thoughts that had flashed uninvited into her mind. Would Elaine pull out of the election? Would her opponents now have a chance to win?

Forgive me, Lord.

A sad smile touched his lips, tugging at her heart. “We found out a day or two before Luke and Delaney's wedding. We didn't know the extent of it then, of course. But she wouldn't let them postpone the wedding or call off the honeymoon.”

She waited in silence, praying for Grady. His mother. His family.

“Anyway, it was a family decision not to say anything to anyone until we knew more. She had surgery. Then a reaction to meds. Council members, of course, were informed in private that she'd miss a few sessions due to a needed medical procedure. But the word
cancer
wasn't shared with anyone outside the family.”

“And now?”

“She started chemo a week or so ago and it's already taking its toll much faster than she anticipated. She's really sick.” He pushed away from the fireplace and slowly paced the room. “So tomorrow she'll make it public that she's battling cancer. She feels because she holds a public office that the community is entitled to know.”

“What a blow to your mother and your family.”

He nodded. “But that's not all I need to tell you.”

What more could there be?

“Mom wants to remain on the ballot.” He forced a smile. “That's so typical of her. She doesn't want to let down those who voted her into office and want to see her remain there.”

Sunshine winced. And
she
was doing her best to unseat his mother from a second term.

“Which leads me to inform you—” Grady halted his pacing and rammed his hands into his jeans' back pockets, his blue eyes piercing into hers. “Mom's asked me to stand in for her tomorrow night at the parent-teacher meeting. In her absence I'll present her platform, her point of view, her hopes for Hunter Ridge.”

Sunshine sucked in a startled breath.

She'd be behind the podium with Grady Hunter?

* * *

“Well, don't you look dolled up and ready to dance.” Luke leaned against the door frame of Grady's office Friday evening, a smirk on his face.

Grady's lip curled as Grandma Jo adjusted his tie. “Don't you have someplace you need to be, Luke? Like giving your new bride a little attention?”

“Now, boys.” Enveloped in her fuzzy blue bathrobe, Mom looked up from where she sat at his desk, going through her notes and drilling him on her election platform. Dark shadows emphasized the weariness in her eyes, belying the amused smile. He still couldn't get used to her in that colorful turban she'd donned, having had her head shaved in anticipation of losing her hair to the chemo. It was all Mom could do to keep Rio from shaving her own head as a solidarity move. “I think Grady looks quite handsome.”

At least he'd talked her out of a suit. Who wore suits in Hunter Ridge except when getting married or buried? But she'd insisted he pair up a tie with a tan, corduroy sports jacket and a new pair of jeans.

As he'd reminded her earlier, though, he wasn't the one running for office. It was important he make that clear after what Garrett had shared with him about Aunt Suzy and Uncle Mac wanting him to be a write-in candidate. No way.

“Yep, Mom,” Luke agreed. “My baby brother looks mighty fine tonight. Even shaved. Combed his hair, too.”

“Enough.” Grandma Jo pointed at the door. “We have more we need to pour into Grady's head before he leaves for the parent-teacher meeting.”

“Shouldn't be a problem.” Luke's eyes twinkled. “There's plenty of empty space in there.”

“Out.” Grandma laughingly marched up to Luke, turned him toward the hallway and gave him a gentle push. Shut the door behind him. Still smiling, she shook her head at her daughter-in-law. “I don't think your boys will ever grow up.”

“So how are you feeling about this now, Grady?” His mother set aside her notes to study him.

He adjusted his tie. “I don't understand why this falls to me. It's not as though this family has a shortage of members to choose from.”

“You know we've always counted on you,” Grandma Jo reminded, a proud look in her eyes.

Wasn't that the truth?
Luke has a tiff with Dad and bails on Hunter's Hideaway, so guess who's enlisted to take his place? Dad prefers the manual labor and, consequently, who gets stuck with the endless paperwork? Uncle Doug hates contract negotiations, so their go-to guy takes that on, as well.

Given a minute or two, he could tick off dozens more let-Grady-do-it scenarios that had landed on his plate over the years. Stuff that he'd never, at the time, given a thought to as he'd taken them on. But it had begun to dawn on him, when he'd found it hard to fit in a few measly hours with Sunshine each week, that his life revolved exclusively around Hunter's Hideaway.

“You've told the whole family no one related to the Hunters is to show up there, right? It's just me—solo.” He didn't want family members watching from the sidelines. He'd be uncomfortable enough playing politician in front of strangers—even as a stand-in.

“Yes, we got the word out.”

While that was a relief, he still didn't look forward to fulfilling his familial duties. Forty minutes later, his brain stuffed to the max with information from his mom, he headed to town. When he stepped through the door of the high school cafeteria, he couldn't help but look for Sunshine.

And there she was. Across the room chatting with Mayor Vicky Silas, a hardworking, gray-haired descendant of one of the earlier families to settle Hunter Ridge. Sunshine, dressed in that eye-catching print skirt she'd worn the first night she'd come to his place, almost glowed as the high school principal stepped in to join them. The same principal who'd on occasion hauled Grady into his office for rowdy behavior.

Glancing quickly away, he spied other teachers, school board members and parents he recognized, including several members of the artisan community. It looked to be a healthy turnout.

Not far away, candidate Irvin Baydlin—who'd also known Grady as a boy—was engaged in conversation with several teachers who Grady recognized as having, at one time or another, taught his nieces and nephews. And—good grief—wasn't that Mrs. Rivers? His seventh-grade English teacher who'd constantly been on him for poor spelling and less-than-perfect grammar?

It looked as though Mom picked the wrong Hunter for tonight's assignment.

“Grady!”

He pivoted toward a gal his brother had dated in high school, relieved at seeing a familiar face that didn't remind him of his past wrongdoings. She was married and a math teacher now.

“Hey, Monica. Good to see you.”

“You, too.” Then the corners of her mouth dipped downward as she gave his arm a squeeze. “I'm sorry to hear about your mother.”

“Keep her in your prayers.” He'd expected to hear words of concern tonight, but he hadn't adequately prepared himself to discuss Mom's illness. It was too new. Too raw. He glanced around the spacious room. “Do you know where I'm supposed to go? I'm filling in for my mother tonight.”

“That's what I'd heard.” She pointed to the stage, where a table, five folding chairs and podium had been set up. And in front of them, on the cafeteria floor, were several dozen chairs, as well. “The candidates—and you, too, of course—will be up there.”

He willed himself not to grimace. He'd hoped for a more informal setting where he could relax into a casual conversation. This was too much like a speech.

He didn't do speeches.

“Give your mother my love.” Monica patted his arm, then stepped away to greet someone entering the door behind him.

He set a course for the stage as those around him began to fill the seats on the main floor, and had just reached the steps when Sunshine appeared at his side.

“Nervous, Grady?”

“Not really.” Would lightning strike him for that blatant fib? “How about you?”

“Yes!” She laughed as he motioned for her to precede him onto the stage. It was easy to see how she came by her nickname with that smile warming him from the inside out. “I've never spoken in front of a group this big.”

“You'll do fine.”

Her expression sobered and they moved toward the chairs arranged for them. “How is your mother?”

“It's rough. But she insists if this is what she has to go through to come out on the other side and live a long, meaningful life, she'll do it without complaint.”